Left The Farm… And The Reservation

(I am working in a farm shop as a student. The shop is located close to a farm but is independent of them from an administrative point of view — just selling some of their products amongst others. The shop is always full of posh people willing to buy local and organic products. I am alone in charge of everything, and ten people are queuing, when some weird lady opens the door of the shop:)

Customer: “I saw a dead pigeon outside the shop.”

Me: “Yes, and?”

Customer: “It has clear signs of poisoning.”

Me: “I don’t know; everything outside our shop does not depend on us because it’s part of the farm, so I cannot tell you.”

(I go back to my customers, but she comes to me again, screaming.)

Customer: “You kill pigeons!”

Me: “I don’t. I have nothing to do with this. Miss, I have many other customers waiting; may I proceed?”

Customer: “You work in this shop; you are responsible!”

Me: “This really does not depend on me. Please go ask the farm responsible about this.”

Customer: *furiously* “I WILL NEVER BUY YOUR PRODUCTS!” *slams the door*